


Christmas Party at Lydia's

by malfoymanor



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Complete, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 16:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5593840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfoymanor/pseuds/malfoymanor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles found it hard to care. How was it even possible that his friends, totally ignoring him lately, started to care so much? He didn’t know the answer. He stood up and went to pour himself another glass of punsch.<br/>***<br/>—Hey, don’t be such a sourwolf. I’m actually having a great time! It’s not like my firend’s having fun with his girlfriend and one strawberry-blond goddess is not even thinking ’bout talking to me. I don’t need you screaming at me and pissing off. I feel shitty just like that. You don’t have to make it even worse. I could really use some goodnight sleep—Stiles gestures were even more chaotic than they tended to be without all this buzzing in his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Party at Lydia's

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first work ever that has been finished and posted. I usually write something and leave it... forever. But this one was a Sterek Secret Santa gift and it really motivated me to finish it up :) My first in Teen Wolf fandom, I wanted it to be fluff and sweet, with Derek caring for Stiles (a lot). I also wanted to convey all the Christmas' spirit :) I hope You guys will enjoy it! 
> 
> Concrit is always welcome! :)
> 
> Thanks to my beta, Lui! She did a great job! <3
> 
> The work has been written as Secret Santa gift for this lovely TUMBL user: http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com/ <3

It all has started two years ago during the Christmas party at Lydia’s. She organized it perfectly, just as always, but Stiles just couldn’t enjoy it properly. It was two days before Christmas. The Christmas Tree was colorful, just as it should be (but at the same time it reminded him of its owner, Lydia, for the spruce was elegant and subtle), the atmosphere present in the air reminded people that it wasn’t just a party—it was a meeting right before the most beautiful time of the year. What is more, christmas punsch, Lydia’s special recipe, tasted like oranges and cloves and the music was loud but yet it was possible to talk. Regardless of the perfection of the evening, Stiles felt a little overwhelmed by everything around him as Christmas had always made him dwell upon the death of his mother. He still remembered the last Christmas Eve with her. As she couldn’t do anything herself at that time, he and his father had prepared everything on their own. Claudia had been sitting on her wheelchair in the kitchen, commandering the whole preparation. She had been so proud when she saw that gingerbreads made by Sheriff and Stiles had been just perfect.

-Stiles! Come here, talk with us!- Scott’s call made the reverie disappear.

Pouring himself another glass of punsch, Stiles approached his friends.

-Dude, you’ll drunk yourself, silly.

-Hey, Scottie, take care of your pack and your girlfriend and leave me to myself. I’m a grown up, I can handle my own alcohol.

Both Scott and Allison looked concerned but decided not to start a fight. They knew Stiles and were perfectly aware that it wasn’t the best time to start the conversation. Especially considering the fact that lately they’d driven Stiles mad with all their cuddles and stuff.

—Where’s… Where’s Lydia? Need to talk to her. Like… Right now—Stiles demanded.

—She’s upstairs, with Jackson. But I don’t think it’s the right time to talk to her. You’ll get sober and you both are going to talk, like, tomorrow—this time it was Allison that tried to stop him from making a clown out of himself.

Stiles found it hard to care. How was it even possible that his friends, totally ignoring him lately, started to care so much? He didn’t know the answer. He stood up and went to pour himself another glass of punsch.

 

***

 

Next thing he remembered was finding himself in the bathroom on the second floor of Lydia’s house. In the bathtube, to be exact. Right next to him was standing a half-drunk glass of punsch. His 6th and hopefully the last this evening. He had never drunk so much alcohol before and was perfectly aware of the possible consequences. Lacks in memories, for example. His thoughts were disrupted by angry knock on the door.

—Stiles! Stiles! Open up that fucking door or I’ll do it myself, I swear!

Could it be Derek? _Nah, not possible_ _…_ _I_ _’_ _m halucinating_ _’_ _cause of the alcohol_ , Stiles thought.

—Stiles. I know you are in there. I’m asking you one last time—the voice seemed pretty pissed off.

—It doesn’t sound exactly like you’re asking. More like _ordering_ , to be honest…—if it was really Derek, playing with him at this exact moment wasn’t probably the best idea. But alcohol made Stiles cocky like he had never been before.

—Stiles—this time it sounded like a warning groan.

He dragged himself out of the bathtube and hastily went to the door. He opened them, now pretty scared of what might have been waiting behind.

It was Derek. And he actually did look like he was going to kill Stiles any second.

—I’ve been standing here for 10 minutes. Loosing my temper. _Quickly_. Was it not for Allison begging me not to destroy Lydia’s property, I’d shred this door into pieces ages ago. What the hell were you thinking, Stiles?!

—Well… I wasn’t thinking at all?—at that time younger man would probably go for a glass of icy-cold water thrown at his face as he couldn’t believe his eyes. Derek Hale _worrying_ about him? Impossible as it was, it actually seemed that it was real and not his strange, alcohol-driven dream.

—And that’s the problem! You could use your brain for a change. Not only for your computer-whatever reasons.

—Hey, don’t be such a sourwolf. I’m actually having a great time! It’s not like my firend’s having fun with his girlfriend and one strawberry-blond goddess is not even thinking ’bout talking to me. I don’t need you screaming at me and pissing off. I feel shitty just like that. You don’t have to make it even worse. I could really use some goodnight sleep—Stiles gestures were even more chaotic than they tended to be without all this buzzing in his head.

—So let me take care of you—words slipped from Derek’s mouth before he even thought what he was saying.

—Whoa, wait. I’m not _**that**_ drunk. I won’t let you take me somewhere in the forrest, stab me like 50 times in the stomach, and rip my throat with your teeth. Hopeless as it may seem, I quite like my life, to be honest—Stiles head was heavy but somehow he managed to think clearly.

—Don’t be silly. I don’t want to kill you. I just think you may use some sleep, just as you said seconds ago. I think it will do miracles if you'd go to bed right now. Now, get your ass here and I’ll take you home.

Until that moment, Stiles didn’t even realize that he was back in the bathtube. He didn’t remember how he even got there. He tried to stand up but failed miserably.

—Whoa, why is everything spinning like on a roller-coaster? How do I get out of it?—his vision was blurred.

—Let me help you—Derek approached him and tried to pull him out of the bathtube.

—No way! I’m doing it myself—Stiles protested begrudgingly but as he tried to get up he failed, _again_. His body clearly didn’t want to cooperate. In that case, Stiles decided to accept his fate—at least Derek promised that he won’t kill him.

—Okay, I’ll let you help me out with this. But it’ll be the last time—Stiles murmured.

Derek took him into his arms and headed to the exit. He felt Stiles making himself comfortable, nuzzling up against his neck. As they were heading downstairs, people were turning towards them, shamelessly gossiping and staring at this unsual situation. Derek was aware of it and would love to haul like only he could, just to scare them, make them feel inferior. But than, right from nowhere, appeard Lydia.

—That’s not a freak show people! Back to the party! I want you to have fun!—she shouted—Take care of him, I trust you—she whispered right into his ear.

Hearing Lydia’s voice, Stiles wriggled. He felt like he’d been under the water. Somewhere from the distance he heard music playing. Suddenly he realized that being carried by Derek felt just right. He could smell his cologne, Paco Rabanne’s _One Milion_ , mixed with delicate scent of leather jacket. He could hear Derek’s regular heartbeat. Wrapped in the scent and listening to the heartbeat, he fell asleep.

 

***

 

Derek placed Stiles on the back sit of his Camaro. The younger man fell asleep before he even crossed the threshold of Lydia’s house. He watched him for a while contemplating peace that was radiating from Stiles’s face. He closed the doors quietly and took his place behind the wheel. He headed to his loft, checking up on Stiles in his rearview mirror from time to time. When he got to his place, he took younger boy back in his arms. Stiles moved but didn’t wake up.

He glanced at him and thought that it must have be totally uncomfortable to sleep in jeans. He took them off, grining at the sight of Superman boxers. After a while, he decided that taking off Stiles’s T-shirt would also do him good. As he looked at Stiles’ perfect body, lying under his own duvet, he couldn’t help but touch. Tracing his finger from Stiles’s face, through his chest, noticing every little detail, he felt hot skin underneath. He brushed away hair from his forehead and whispered:

—If you only knew how much you mean to me, Stiles. But I guess you’ll never know—he sighed.

His moment of admiration was over. Teenager’s heartbeat was now steady, Derek was sure that Stiles won’t wake up until morning. He headed to the kitchen, poured a glass of fresh water and put it on the tray alongside two pills of Aspirin. He went back to the room and placed the tray on the bedside table. Preparing himself to go to sleep, he took off his clothes, laid himself right next to Stiles, and let his thoughts wander. He hesitated for a while but eventually decided that he could nestle in Stiles arms. No one will ever know.

 

***

 

Stiles woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes. For sure he wasn’t at his place. Sheriff never did pancakes for breakfast. He wasn’t sure where he was but he could hear Queen’s _Winter_ _’_ _s Tale._ He looked around and he reached the verdict. The sun was shining, blinding him and causing unberable hedache. He surely wasn’t at his place. But he felt good, actually. Nevertheless, he still didn’t know where he was.

As he was waking up, making himself more lucid, he began putting together memories from the night. Or, speaking bluntly, pieces of blurred visions which lasted to the moment he had entred  
Lydia’s bathroom. How had he even got from hers to… Exactly… Where was he again? And how he’d got there? Stiles looked around again, focusing on the details, when the truth hit him right in the face.

—Oh shit. _Fuck_. How… Derek… Now I remember…—he muttered under his breath. He slowly put together all the scattered memories. The second he heard Derek almost breaking the door. The moment in which he had come into the bathroom and saw Stiles. The anger. The concern in his eyes. Typical _I_ _’_ _m not that drunk talk_. Stubborness. Dizzines. Kneels that were not cooperating with him. Derek taking him into his arms and carrying him to his Camaro. Lydia’s voice. The overwhelming smell of the werewolf. And the feeling of his heartbeat. He must have fallen asleep at this point as he couldn’t remember anything else. But wait… He uplifted the duvet and froze. He was only in his pants. Superman pants to be 100% accurate.

 

—Did he really...?—Stiles' thoughts were interrupted by Derek’s apperance in the bedroom’s door. He was holding a tray with coffee, vitamin C, water, and pancakes on it. Stiles couldn’t actually decide if his love for panckaes should win or would he just throw it up after first bite. Oh, they smelled so good.

—Did I do what?—Derek asked with a little smile on his face.

He heard Stiles’ skipping heartbeat, he could smell his confusion floating in the air. He could almost hear the thoughts running through Stiles’ head. And he knew what made Stiles stutter even more than usually.

-Oh… About that… Well… Never mind.

Abashment of the younger boy and blush coming out on his cheeks made Derek smile even more eventhough he knew he shouldn’t. And that was _very_ unusal of him. He should tell something about being an idiot or even worse. Or just smirk. But _smile_? It was not his style. Totally not. And what was even more awkward was the fact that Derek’s sight was wandering through Stiles' almost naked body. But again, the werewolf wasn’t even trying to hide it. Stiles also saw this little spark in his eye that made him look even more un-Derek like.

 

***

 

—Why… Why you’re helping me anyways?—Stiles asked hesitantly, willing to break the silence.

—Wolves defend all of their pack, don’t they?—Derek answered, looking Stiles right into boy’s golden eyes.

—Wait what? Can you repeat what you’ve said?—Stiles couldn’t believe in what he’s just heard.

—Don’t make me break my promise and leave you here. All alone. In the wolf’s den—there we go. That was more Derek-style.

—I’m… I’m one of your pack? Since when? I’m not even a werewolf…

_Shit, I_ _’_ _m blushing like a little girl, what the fuck is going on?,_ Stiles cursed in his mind.

—Yes. You’re part of the pack since you and Scott came together. You just cannot be splitted. Besides… You’re master of stalking and finding information on the Internet. I don’t even know what we’d do without you. We need you. _I_ need you…—Derek didn’t mean to say the last one out loud. The words shouldn’t be let out that easily. He should keep his mouth shut. He couldn’t let Stiles see how much he meant for him. It would be dangerous for both of them. Derek would not be able to protect Stiles, he world be too distracted. And Stiles… If anybody would know how much he cared for this clumsy but cute guy, Stilinski would become an easy target. Bargaining chip in one of Derek’s many unfinished businesses and fights with enemies.

—Hey you, big bad wolfie, what happened?—Stiles looked perplexed and concerned at the same time.

—I just… I shouldn’t…—Derek didn’t stutter. It wasn’t in his nature.

—Now. Listen to me carefully. I’m not used to people saying they need me. It’s usually another way round. I need people and they aren’t there for me. Shh… Do not dare to say a thing. So when someone takes care of me, makes me breakfast and tell me that he needs me it’s a _great deal_ for me. I’m not sure what it means and I don’t know how it will end. But I know one thing. I see how you look at me. You’ve made breakfast for me. You took care of me and didn’t let me to scare you off. I want to try. I want to try and see how it is to have somebody on your side. Somebody who will love me unconditionnaly and forever. I don’t know if it’ll work out with us. But I don’t want to miss this opportunity. Yesterday I wasn’t even thinking I will ever say that to you. Not when I’m not drugged or something, but I do now. I _do_ wanna try—Stiles ended up his speech and immediatley felt light as a feather. He thought that he knew all this before but it was burrowed deep in his subconsciousness.

Derek hesitated for a while and then, in just a flicker, he was next to Stiles kissing him as if their lives depended on this. He cupped his jaw in his arms, pressing his lips against Stiles’. His skin was soft, just as he remembered it. He felt the warmth of it. The need and lust were all around them. Their tongues danced together like they were made only for that. Even though Stiles didn’t have much experience, he was a wondrous kisser. He kissed with his whole body, arms wandering under Derek’s shirt. He felt as if he waited his whole life just for this moment. As if it was written in the stars. He felt that he was finally at the right place at the right time.

The kiss lasted few minutes as they were not able to break it. When they finally did, their cheeks were red, eyes were shining.

—Can you do me one favor, Stiles?

—Mhm?

—Never leave me alone, okay? I wouldn’t make it if you did.

—I promise—Stiles whispered in his ear closing their lips in another kiss.

 

***

 

When they were walking out of the loft, Derek suddenly grabbed Stiles arm.

—What the hell, Derek? Oh, I know… You’ve made up your mind and found out that this… Helping me, kissing, and cuddling, was the biggest mistake of your life! Now you’re gonna rip my throat up and…

—Do you ever shut up? _Can_ you shut up?—Derek put an emphasis on the word can. But for once this question was not outspoken with annoyed voice and eyes-rolling. Actually, Derek looked like he was going to laugh any second.

—Well… I guess so.—for Stiles it was kind of a new situation.

Derek gently pulled him closer to himself. He traced his finger over Stiles’ mouth, dimples in his cheeks, and this little moles that were making Stiles even prettier. He was surprised when he realized that he could see every mole of his even with his eyes closed. After contemplating baffled Stiles for a while, and silent Stiles was quite an extraoridinary view, he pressed their lips together. This time their kiss was subtle, bringing totaly new dimension to their relationship. Even though Stiles did not have much experience, he felt the difference. He felt all the feelings, he felt how much Derek actually cared about him. And he felt something else. Something that he had never felt before. It tasted like home and sense of belonging. And lately he was almost certain that he would never feel that he belongs to someone.

Derek was also aware of that subtle change. This kiss, unlike the other, wasn’t passionate, it wasn’t needy or full of lust. It was more like coming home after a long day, full of hunting kanimas or alphas killing people and there was Stiles. Waiting for him in their own house. It felt like he eventually had someone after he lost almost his entire family.

 

After they separated, Derek pointed his finger up.

 

—Oh shut up. Big Bad Wolf has his own miseltoe in his corridor? The end is near.

—It’s a fake. And shut up or I’ll have to rip you’re throat in shreds—this time it didn’t sound like an actual thread as Derek was similing.

—One more question—Stiles said with an innocent smile on his face—Are you my boyfriend now?

Derek smirked and closed the door when they left.

In the background there was Mariah Carey singing. Just as if it was destined to be sung at that moment.

_I_  ' _m just gonna keep on waiting_

_underneath the misletoe (_ _…_ _)_

_C_  ' _ause I just want you here tonight,_

_Holding on to me so tight_

_What more can I do._

_Baby all I want for Christmas is you._

 

Maybe they didn't realize their clandestine, subconciouss dream before but at that time it became reality. After all it was Christmas time. And Christmas is all about wishes coming true!

 


End file.
